


We Never Had Our Tea

by usuallyfunctioning



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/M, One Shot, Regret, Sad, The Doctor Visits Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallyfunctioning/pseuds/usuallyfunctioning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They're your kids, aren't they?" He asked stiffly.</p>
<p>Rose nodded.</p>
<p>"They're lovely, the two of them. They look just like you and... him." The Doctor looked down at the floor and cleared his throat. Rose knew him well enough to hear the hurt he was trying so hard to disguise.</p>
<p>"...You, Doctor. The boy, John, he looks like you." Her voice was a whisper. </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>The Tenth Doctor left Rose Tyler at Bad Wolf Bay, knowing he could never see her again, leaving her with a duplicate of himself so at least she could be happy. Years later, things get spacey-wacey and timey-wimey, and the Doctor has a single chance to see her once more. </p>
<p>Like any lonely man with two broken hearts would do, he takes it. The things is, seeing her again was supposed to make things better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Never Had Our Tea

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Doctor Who fan fiction! After rewatching Journey's End just the other day, I decided that I needed to write this. I couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you like it!
> 
> Please review or critique! I love reading any sort of your comments(: Thank you.

He stood in front of the simple wooden door to a simple London town home. The man's hands were tucked away in the pockets of his suit; he shifted on converse-clad feet. A hand lifted and curled to knock on the door. It took just moments for it to be opened.

"...Doctor," Rose whispered, utterly astonished. She instinctively stepped forward, lifting her arms to wrap them around him, but she stopped herself. She recovered quickly, looking away from the man on her doorstep, stepping back into her home. "I-um, come in, Doctor."  
He walked inside the home. Warily. "You know, Rose, I really shouldn't have come in the first place. I think I'm just going to leave-"

"No, you can't leave! You just got here," she said quickly. "I," she paused. "Stay for a cup of tea, please, Doctor?"

The Doctor scratched his neck and scrunched his nose. "Yeah, alright. Just for a bit."

Rose looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows. "How'd you get here anyway? Why are you here?"

He laughed, but it wasn't his real laugh. It was just a hollow sort of chuckle. "Timey-wimey," he replied quietly, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.

Rose smiled and nodded slowly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "You and your timey-wimey... but why, Doctor? Tell my why…”

He shook his head. “I-I don’t know. I shouldn't be. Here, that is." He took a deep breath. "I shouldn't be here, Rose."

"You said you'd stay for tea, yeah? So we're going to have tea." She turned towards the kitchen, and the Doctor followed.

His usual confident stride was replaced with one far more hesitant as he stood in Rose's home. Footsteps bounced down the front staircase, along with a young boy's voice. 

"Ma! Donna's taken my cars again." The boy stopped in his tracks when he turned the corner and saw the Doctor. The boy was only a toddler. He was skinny and had shaggy brown hair and a dusting of freckles. The Doctor's breath hitched in his throat. “Daddy’s home!" The boy yelled with a grin on his face, before running towards the Doctor and wrapping his arms around a leg.

Rose turned from the kettle and rushed over to the boy. "No, John, this isn't Daddy. Daddy's at work, yeah? He'll be home later." She pried him off of the Doctor, whose eyes were distant and lips tight.

"Daddy's home?" A little girl's voice squealed from the kitchen threshold. She was older than the boy, with blonde hair and big brown eyes.

"No, Donna. This isn't Daddy, alright? This man is the Doctor." Rose's voice was gentle. The children’s faces twisted in confusion.

"But-" the girl, Donna, began.

Rose sighed. "Yes, he looks just like him, I know. But your father is at work. He'll be home later. Just go and play for now."

The curious, confused gazes of the little boy and girl lingered on the Doctor as they began to wander back upstairs.

Rose turned to the Doctor, who was leaning against the counter, hands once more in his pockets. Her face was apologetic. "Doctor-"

"They're your kids, aren't they?" He asked stiffly, tightly.

Rose nodded slowly.

"They're lovely, the two of them. They look just like you and... him." The Doctor looked down at the floor and cleared his throat. Rose knew him well enough to hear the hurt he was trying so hard to disguise.

"...You, Doctor. The boy, John, he looks like you."

He turned to her, wiping his face blank of emotion and tilting his chin upward just the slightest. "So. Do I- does he- the me here, does he go by John Smith?"

"Yeah, he does," Rose said softly.

He inhaled, rolling onto his heels then his toes. "I'm sorry to have come, Rose. I am so so sorry. I didn't need to; I shouldn't have." He finished suddenly, turning so that his trench coat spun behind him. The Doctor walked briskly to the front door, but Rose stopped him as he stepped down the front steps.

"...we never had our tea, Doctor." Her voice was quiet and unsure, such the opposite of the bold Rose he used to know, the Rose he used to love madly. The Rose that should have stayed with him forever. Then time got in the way. Time, and the stars, and the entire universe, they all got in the way, and   
made everything so very wrong.

"I can't stay any longer, we both know that," the Doctor spoke sternly, but his voice was strained.

She looked at him, pleading. Was it possible for her to still love him? The Doctor shook the thought from his mind. It didn’t matter now. None of it mattered.

"You have him, alright? This is how it's supposed to be. You have him, and you have your children!" The Doctor’s voice rose, and he placed a strong hand on her shoulder.

Rose's voice was sad and regretful and guilty and longing. "Who do you have, Doctor?"

The Doctor was silent, and the two looked into each other’s eyes. "Goodbye, Rose Tyler." The Doctor began, as he had so many times before. His mouth parted, and then closed slowly.

A tear gathered in the corner of Rose's eye, and spilled down her cheek, leaving a glistening trail in its path. She knew just what he was going to say, what he was about to say but didn't. What he wanted to say, what she wanted to hear. But it couldn’t happen. ”Goodbye, my dear Doctor."

He turned and walked down the street, head bent and hands burrowed away in the seldom empty pockets of his trench coat. He opened the door of the TARDIS, and took one last glance at the woman standing in the doorway of the home he had just left. The beautiful, strong woman that he would never stop loving. Could never stop loving. Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf.

Then he stepped into the police box, knowing he would never see her again. Awful thought, that, ripping apart his hearts. There was nobody to comfort him, nobody to share his sorrows with. The Doctor was alone in the shadows of the universe once again, but when you think about it, isn’t he always?

The Doctor was and is and will be the loneliest man in the universe, and there is nothing that can ever be done about it, for he will always be the last of the Time Lords. He will forever be the man who forgets, and the man who regrets.

He is the oncoming storm.

He is the lone survivor.

And in a sense, he is the winner.

But the Doctor decides that there is nothing worse than winning—not when it feels like this.


End file.
